


Not Normal

by rhodrymavelyne



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:36:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27634886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhodrymavelyne/pseuds/rhodrymavelyne
Summary: The Dragon is dead but he’s still with Hannibal and Will, only Will can’t accept him or what he’s done. He’s shrinking away from his imagination, his victim, but Hannibal is not about to let Will disappear again…
Relationships: Alana Bloom/Will Graham, Francis Dolarhyde/Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, Molly Graham/Will Graham, OMC Simon Blackwater/Will Graham, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Kudos: 2





	Not Normal

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place after the end of the series. I don’t own Hannibal but for months it has owned me.

Once again Francis Dolarhyde approached me, ready to smoke into me with all the glory of the Great Red Dragon as I’d seen Alana splatter against me what felt like so long ago, a creature of shadow and darkness. “I’m part of you now, Will. You’ve consumed me and I’m part of your power.”

“No.” I backed away only to find myself in Hannibal’s waiting arms. 

“Will, Francis has given us a great gift, his life,” he whispered into my hair. “How can you reject his power? How can you reject him?”

“He gave us nothing. We took him.” I stiffened, trying not give into the warmth of Hannibal’s embrace, its deceptive security. “If I accept his power, if I let him in, it means…” I trail off, not wanting to say it. 

All of my father’s warnings to me as a child returned. Spurn the Dark Man, Will. Never look him in the eye. Never accept his gifts, no matter how much you want them. If you do, you’ll be lost. If you do, you’ll become…

“…a witch,” I whispered. “It means I’m really a witch. And you’re the Dark Man, the devil my father warned me about. I don’t believe in such things!”

“If you don’t believe in such things, why do they hold such power over you? Why do they make you cry out with fear?” Hannibal stroked the sides of my face. “Tell me, Will, just what do you think a witch is?”

An image of a woman as fragile, yet powerful as any woman clothed in sun came to me, lifting her arms with fearful boldness and an ecstatic expression to embrace the Great Red Dragon and more. To dance with the Dragon, to chase goblins in a circle and above all to believe somehow she tamed the nightmare beasts of her visions.

“Someone who thinks they can control the uncontrollable,” I murmured. “Someone who acknowledges the unseen forces beyond what’s real, what’s tangible and tries to manipulate those forces, using them to his own ends, bringing them down upon himself.” 

“Haven’t you been doing that all along?” Hannibal moved his fingers down along my neck. “You visualize a crime scene, you imagine what a killer does and feels. Is it so bad to become more active in this?” He leaned his face close to mine. “Would it be better to only to involved in the tangible? To see the evidence, nothing but the evidence?”

I allowed myself to relax just a little against him. “It might be safer.”

“Safe is not you.” His arms tightened around me. I could feel the fierceness, the danger, the beast purring with his possessive touch. “Stop trying to be someone you’re not, Will. You’re curious about being normal. I understand better than anyone about curiosity, but you’re far too rare and special to be such a creature.”

“I doubt it’s what you really want.” The Dragon floated around us, about us, gazing at us through the smoke of its breath through Francis Dolarhyde’s piercing green eyes. “Is it?

“I don’t know.” I looked back at my victim…our victim…only to bury my face in Hannibal’s shoulder. “I don’t know!”

“My poor Will.” Once again Hannibal ran his hand through my hair. “It appears you still need therapy. It’s fortunate that I’m still here. And I never intend to let you go ever again.”

How terrifying those words were, yet how soothing. When did I get used to being terrified and soothed at the same time?

Ever since I started to get to know Hannibal better. 

It looked like I’d never be normal, not while I was with him.

I thought of the people I’d known; my father, Molly, and Walter. Simon, the soft-spoken older man who’d once seen me playing, only to ask me with surprisingly shyness if I’d thought of pursuing a career with the piano. Simon, who’d been the first man I’d been with, so awkward, so gentle, yet unable to understand what I was thought about when I played, even a little frightened by my imagination. Alana, so compassionate, kind, and extremely kissable, yet handling me with such care, fearful to get too close. 

Everyone was afraid, except perhaps Jack. Jack, who’d wanted to borrow my imagination and kept coming back for it. Until he had no further use for it. Until he looked with guilt and reproach at what I’d become for accepting his quest, his mission.

Only Hannibal thought my imagination was beautiful, that I was beautiful. Only Hannibal thought there was nothing wrong with me.

God help me, I don’t think I want to be normal. Not anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> Alana’s moment of splattering against Will was in Kaiseki when she hypnotized him. The reference to Alana being kissable is from Fromage.
> 
> Simon is an original male character and part of Will Graham's back story with the piano I mentioned in Speak of the Siren.


End file.
